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Thursday, December 6, 2012

Adding my name and book title would require a level of technical savvy I do not possess.

Item
#1: I won the NaNoWriMo challenge! With a whopping 50,006 words during the
month of November. Hoorah! In case you’re wondering, the novel I worked on is different
from last year’s and different from Eye
of the Beholder (the “Beauty and the Beast” project you probably hear about
ad nauseum if you ever ask about how my writing is going). In the past I always
wondered how you could turn a fairy tale retelling into a series. You retell
the fairy tale once. Done. But I wonder no longer. In trying to decide what to
write this year, it just sort of happened: This year’s project, currently
titled The Price of Sight or maybe The Price of Looking (but most likely
eventually titled something completely different), is a sequel to Eye of the Beholder. Sort of, anyway. It’s
set about twenty years after Eye, and
it’s about Isabel and the Beast’s daughter, Min. It’s not a fairy tale
retelling, just a young adult fantasy novel with a little adventure, a little
murder, a little dancing, a little romance, and a lot of magic. And no, it’s
not finished. And no, you can’t read it yet. Seriously, people. When I tell you
something is a rough draft, it’s really really (really) rough.

Item
#2: I took second place in a little Mormon Mommy Writers competition. And okay,
yes, the prize is $5. But it also includes publication (even if the publication
is tiny). Essentially it’s just fun to have someone outside my family and
friends say, “Hey, I think this girl’s submission is shiny.” Although they
probably didn’t say “shiny.” But that’s okay, because I’m feeling shiny! In
case you’re wondering what I wrote, it was mostly this blog post, with a little
less snottiness. Thanks to my fabulous brother Makani for liking the post
enough to make me wonder if it might appeal to others!

Item
#3: Creative deadline #347 is long-since passed. I intended to have several
drafts of Eye complete this year. Ha!
What a joke. Onto #378, which is this: My writing buddy Meghan and I both
intend to have a finished first draft of our novels finished by the end of
February. Stay tuned for the moment when I watch that deadline zoom by too.

…

And
now I’m wondering. All those people I challenged to a NaNoWriMo adventure, it’s
time to report! (Oh, and sorry I didn’t cheer you on better. Sigh. But I do think
you’re awesome.) Did you accomplish your goal? Only some of it? A tiny, tiny
speck of it? Good work, now go do some more!

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Author’s
note (yes, the author would be me): Here’s a bit of lighthearted frippery I
wrote a while back, supposed to be short (less than 750 words!) and sweet and perhaps a little
ridiculous. Hope you enjoy.

I
watched as the archduke approached, gingerly carrying a ridiculously
impractical glass slipper across the room. Soon he would ask me to try it on.
This was my moment. Feigning clumsiness as he presented it to me, I jostled his
wrist and gasped as the slipper crashed to the floor.

At
first he only stared in shock at the scattered shards, but then he began to
weep. Poor man. “Don’t cry,” I told him, reaching into my apron pocket. “I have
the other one.” His eyes darted to the shoe I held out, and he began to smile
again.

Trust
a man not to notice the glaring size difference between the original slipper
and mine.

“Thank
you for finding me!” I threw my arms around him and wailed. A little melodrama
couldn’t hurt. “I’ve missed my prince so desperately!”

He
escorted me out to the carriage. And just like that, I was on my way to the
palace and my betrothal.

***

I’d
resisted my parents’ suggested brides for years. The fiscal irresponsibility of
the parties they dreamed of throwing for my nuptials was almost a greater
deterrent than the brides themselves.

Almost.

Apparently
their only requirement for my wife was that she sport the latest hairstyle. A
brain was unnecessary. And a bit of common sense was quite undesirable. They
didn’t want someone who would actually agree with my budgets and projections.
At this rate, by the time the kingdom became mine, it would be destroyed.

As
my parents increased the pressure to marry—increasing the costs of their
wife-finding extravaganzas as well—I finally came up with a desperate plan. A
fake mystery woman. A whirlwind romance. An impossibly tiny glass slipper that would never fit
anyone. I would gain months of peace if I could convince
my parents I was heartbroken when the archduke couldn’t find my true love.

***

Of
course I wasn’t the girl from the ball. She didn’t exist. I was just a girl
with a few unorthodox ideas, a penchant for eavesdropping on secret plans, and
an unhealthy love of meddling. But no one listens to the ideas of an
unimportant glassblower’s niece, no matter how marvelous. As the prince’s new
fiancée, however, I had a chance.

Oh,
he wouldn’t be pleased at first (men always think their plans are the only way
to do something), but I was exactly what he needed.

***

The
herald approached my parents’ thrones and announced, “The archduke has
returned, victorious in his search for the slipper’s owner!”

“What?”
I sputtered. “He wasn’t supposed to—” Mother shot me a surprised look. “I mean . . .
I’m so thrilled he’s back. I just thought the journey would take longer.” I
pasted on a smile of delight. “Bring her in!” Then I would decide how to get
rid of the impostor. No gold-digging piece of fluff was going to trick her way
into marrying me.

***

I
sallied into the throne room wearing last year’s gown. The queen had looked
excited when I entered, but now she cringed. I smiled. She’d change her mind
soon enough, but first I had to convince the prince to hear me out.

“Darling!
I feared we’d be parted forever!” I ran to him and threw my arms around his
neck—the perfect position for secret conversation. Plus it couldn’t hurt to waft
a little lilac scent over the poor man.

“Who
are you?” he hissed into my ear.

“Your
fiancée, of course,” I whispered back.

“Whatever
you want, you’re not getting it.”

Straight
to the point, then. “I want to help you. You’ve been going about things with
your parents all wrong. Spreadsheets will never convince them to change.”

“Oh?
And what will?”

I
smiled wickedly. “Fashion, my dear.”

He
pulled back, aghast. “Fashion?”

“Yes,”
I told him firmly. “Retro-minimalist fashion, to be exact. Bring back the stuff
that’s been sitting in the attic for starters. I made some charts for you to
look at.”

“You
did?” He perked up. I knew the prince couldn’t resist a good chart.

“Yes.
But first we have to convince them this is real.”

“How?”

“Kiss
me, of course.” I winked.

***

Could
her plan possibly work? She smiled warmly, and I thought it might be worth a
try. I’d have to consult her charts to decide for sure, but maybe my fortunes—and
my kingdom’s—were turning around. So I leaned down to kiss my new ally. My new
fiancée.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

This is my fourth attempt at writing something
meaningful and clear and interesting here. So far it hasn’t worked. So let me
lay it out straight, incomplete, and unpretty:

When I wrote up my November challenge, I was happy
to see that several people had things they really did want to do and might
actually be encouraged to work on in November (list below). But I also realized
that I hadn’t defined the idea well enough or broadly enough. Some people have
crazy, insane dreams like publishing novels. Some people don’t. This is all
perfectly well and good. Quite frankly, I am actually kind of jealous of people
whose dreams are more domestic (this is a topic for later, one I haven’t really
fleshed out or fully understood yet). So if you don’t have a huge November
project, maybe you could have some “smaller” things to work on (small perhaps
in physical scope but not in effect or level of personal importance). Or maybe
you are already living and doing the things that are really important to you.
If so, congrats! That’s awesome. I’m really jealous of you too. I struggle on a
daily basis to do the writing I want to do (if I did as much as I meant to,
you’d be hearing from me a lot more often). I struggle on a daily basis to do
the mothering I want to do (if I did, my children would be a lot happier, be
cleaner and better fed, and feel more loved).

So whatever it is that brings you joy and brings you
closer to who you are meant to be, do a little more of that this month! Or just
do what you already told me you might do…

Kem: Write a racecar game (step 1 in a plan that I
think sounds supercool).

Kirsa: Start painting her Giant Canvas of Doom (or,
you know, just a giant canvas without any

doom).

Marci: Work on her art projects, fifteen minutes a
day. (Granted, I haven’t heard how Hurricane Sandy treated her family--in New
York--so she may have more urgent matters to attend to in November.)

Marneen: Decide which of her awesome ideas would
make her feel happiest at the end of the month. Then do that one! :)

Meghan: Write a novel, baby!

Michael: Write a novel (a different one from
Meghan’s)! :)

Michelle: Finish that tree skirt—just in time for
Christmas!I suppose I should also toss in my plans for
November, in case you’d forgotten (not likely, I know, given the amount of time
I spend talking about it). Fifty thousand words! A novel! Craziness! Cashing in
all my wifey points! Avoiding Facebook like the plague! And also avoiding blogs
and email too! And tossing in a few exclamation points, just for good
measure!!! These are the things I have planned for November.

Okay, people, go and do! And keep me updated! And
take pictures so we can all revel in our awesomeness at the end of the month!